


Adelina's Chilli

by agoodpersonrose



Series: Nice To Meet You [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Making Out, Meet-Cute, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: After a long week, David heads to the supermarket to buy ingredients for Adelina's chilli recipe. Whilst there he meets Patrick Brewer for the first time and they hit it off right away.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Nice To Meet You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768825
Comments: 16
Kudos: 175





	Adelina's Chilli

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second in a series of Meet-Cutes I'm writing this month. Everything is the same except that David and Patrick didn't meet at Ray's for various different reasons.

You’d think he might have learned from the Enchilada disaster that David Rose is not made to cook. He can clean just fine and is happy to do laundry and help Stevie sort a vacated room. But cooking? Not his forte.

But it’s been a long week. After struggling with Ray for almost three days just to complete his business licence he’s feeling more than just a little shaken. The only thing he can think about is the vegetarian chilli that Adelina used to make after a difficult day.

So, with some guidance from her in the form of a notebook filled with recipes he discovers tucked in the bottom of a suitcase he had stuffed in the motel closet, he sets out to cook dinner for himself. 

He takes the handwritten list of ingredients he had found down the road in the family car to the supermarket about half an hour away. 

He wanders through to collect a trolley, cleaning the handle thoroughly with a disinfectant wipe, before heading through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioned store. It smells stale, and David can’t help but wrinkle his nose up as he looks around. 

This is exactly what his store is not going to be, he thinks. All mass-produced, impersonal products layering the shelves. The presentation is just abysmal, no matter about the products themselves.

He heads down the vegetable aisle muttering under his breath. 

“Onion.” He says, “One onion.”

He looks around and all he can see are plastic bags full of them. He pouts; would it be acceptable to rip open a bag and just take one? He assumes not but there really is no other option here. 

He is just about to do so when he spots a man across from him with a single onion in his hand, placing it into his own plastic bag and tying up the ends. 

David rounds the display and internally cheers as he sees the onions laid out separately in a large stack. He falters as he looks at them, uncertain of what size to pick, and looks around for the man to see what he chose. 

Fortunately, he hasn’t gone far, and David can see that he has placed several onions in a clear plastic bag, all about the same size. He picks up the onion that is closest to that size and places it in one of the bags.

The bell peppers are easier; he needs three and they come in a bag of three, so he is able just to place them straight into the trolley without issue. 

At the end of the aisle he comes across some jars. One of them filled with green olives. He frowns and looks around but the aisle is empty of workers so there is nobody to ask for advice from. 

He looks back down at the list as if it will give him any other answers, but it remains the same, so he reluctantly pulls out his phone to dial Stevie’s number.

“What?” She answers, already sounding bored. 

“Hello to you as well.” David replies rolling his eyes. “I need your help and I need you not to make fun of me for it.”

“I am absolutely not promising that, but now I’m curious. What’s your problem?”

David sighs hesitantly, “Um, so, you know olive oil?”

“I’m familiar with the concept, yes.”

“Like, how many jars of olives should I get to make sure I have enough?”

There’s silence on the line for long enough that David has to pull the phone away from his ear to check she hasn’t hung up on him, but after a moment he can make out Stevie’s wheezing laughter across the phone. 

“Okay, so that was a dumb question then, I know. Only one, right?”

“David! No, what the hell?” Stevie says, still laughing hysterically at him. 

David groans, “Okay, look, I know this is stuff that everyone already knows, but I’ve never done this before and I’m trying!”

Stevie tries to calm herself, but just bursts into another round of laughter. Through it, she manages to wheeze out an answer. “There will be a separate bottle that says olive oil on it.” She says, “Don’t buy the olives.”

“Thank you so much for that.” David says sarcastically, already hanging up the phone as she collapses into another round of laughter.

He turns around on his heel but doesn’t spot any of the oil so wanders down the next aisle. 

The man from earlier is also there, standing by the display looking thoughtfully at a can of tomatoes. David takes a moment to look at him; he’s attractive, which means he’s probably not from Schitt’s Creek and instead assumedly travels from one of the other decrepit towns in the vicinity. His blue button-down is rolled to the elbows, and his top buttons are undone revealing a column of porcelain skin on his neck.

He looks up as David wanders down and offers a polite closed-lipped smile. David just nods and tries to focus his attention on the list and the ingredients laid out in front of him. 

He frowns again, biting his lip, and pulls his phone back out of his pocket.

Stevie answers on the first ring. 

“I didn’t think you’d pick up after the last time.” David says into the phone, scowling as he hears Stevie laugh at him. 

“Honestly, the motel is super boring today and your constant interruptions are my afternoon entertainment.” She replies, “What is it this time?”

“Um, so, if a recipe says, like, four hundred grams of some things.” David starts slowly, “Does that mean you get one of the things, or all of them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, if a recipe said, for example, four hundred grams of kidney beans, four hundred grams of mixed beans, then what does that mean?”

There’s silence again for a moment, and David assumes she is laughing again, but soon enough she continues. “Okay, you’ve lost me David. So, you’re asking me if you need all the things on the recipe or whether you can pick between them?”

“Well, when you put it like that--”

“No, no you could be right, but it depends on the recipe.” Stevie says, no hint of humour in her voice which surprises David but also makes him panic even more. “Where did you get the recipe from, I can look it up for you.”

David sighs, “It was Adelina’s it’s all hand-written.” He says.

“I’m not sure then David. If it says them separately then get them both but if it says ‘or’ on it then I guess you can just pick one.”

“That’s not very helpful.” David says. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Ugh, fine.” He says, tipping his head back in frustration. “Before you go, what are kidney beans?”

Now she’s laughing again, and she hangs up before he manages to get a straight answer out of her. As he puts the phone in his pocket, he looks back towards the shelf to see the man in the blue shirt chuckling slightly and glancing over at him over his shoulder. 

“What?” David gasps, an annoyed look plastered on his face. 

The man has the decency to look slightly embarrassed, but nods towards the note with a small smile lingering on his features. “Do you need any help with that?” He asks, “I’m not an expert but I could help you find what you’re looking for.”

“I’m perfectly capable of shopping for myself, thank you very much.” David snaps.

The man nods, smiles again in a more strained way, and turns his back to face the shelves again, placing a couple of cans in his basket before turning to leave.

“Wait!” David says, a desperate tinge to his voice. 

The man stops and turns around on his heel, one eyebrow raised. 

“Um, if a recipe says mixed beans, does that mean I can pick the beans and mix them myself, or--”

A small smile grows wider, as the man shakes his head and returns to the shelf, grabbing a can and turning it between his hands so that the label faces David. 

“Pre-mixed beans, already in a can.”

David lets out a sigh of relief and takes the proffered can, placing it cautiously in his trolley. “Thank you, I’m sorry for--” He says with a wave of his hand to gesture towards his previous attitude problem. 

The stranger accepts the apology easily and heads off back in the direction he had been walking before. David watches him leave for a moment before turning back to the shelf with narrowed eyes. 

He finds the beans and the tomatoes and continues down an empty aisle this time in search of the spices. 

He taps the list against the handle of the trolley as he looks at it, and frowns confusedly. 

“How are we getting on?” The man from earlier asks, approaching him from the left and nodding down at his list, “Need any more help?”

David winces in embarrassment before nodding slightly. “Um, the spices only come in these huge jars, but I only need, um, a ‘tuh-buh-spuh’?”

The man closes his lips around his teeth in a straight line to stop himself from laughing, and nods. “Um, I think you mean a tablespoon? Do you not have any of these at home already?”

“Well, I- I um, I live in a motel, so no.” David says simply. “Do I just buy the whole thing, then?”

“Yeah, yeah you just buy the whole thing and measure it out when you get home. I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make assumptions.”

David waves a hand around, “Don’t worry- I’d honestly rather you didn’t look at me and immediately think ‘lives in a motel’, so you paid me a compliment more than anything.”

The man laughs genuinely at that. He has a nice laugh, it’s not like he’s laughing at David because he’s done something embarrassing, or because he wants something. It seems the man genuinely thinks what he said was funny, and was laughing to tell him that, which is a new concept for David but one that he is unnaturally excited about. 

“Hey, what’s left on the list? I can help you with the rest if you need?”

David looks down and frowns as he mentally ticks off the items. “Um, it says I need olive oil. But I already passed the olives and my friend said that wasn’t what I was looking for so--”

“No, no your friend was right, the oil is in the next aisle. I need some too so we can go together.”

“Okay--” David says slowly, smiling shyly at the man as he gestures for him to lead the way and they head around the corner together. 

“My name’s Patrick, by the way.” The man says as they walk next to each other, “I feel like you’ve probably earned that.”

“Oh, I earned it did I?” David says with a small laugh, “I didn’t even realise. I’m David.”

“Nice to meet you, David.” He says his name with an unusual reverence, as if testing its shape and sound on his tongue. David can only assume he comes to a positive conclusion as he smiles as he stares off into the distance for a moment.

David just hums as Patrick pulls a bottle of oil off the shelf.

“Again, you won’t need that much for one recipe but it’s a good thing to have in the cupboard.” Patrick says, putting one of the same bottles in his own basket. 

“Okay, um, thank you for your help. Patrick.” David says. It’s a nice name, he decides. It suits him, and he can’t help but let a smile of his own pass his lips as he says it.

“No problem, David. I hope your cooking is a success.”

David just smiles again and nods, as they head off in different directions. David makes a quick stop in the freezer section to collect two pints of ice cream, as well as the drinks section to pick up a bottle of vodka. He figures it’s better to be prepared for if the cooking is a failure, or if it doesn’t help to improve his mood, and getting extremely drunk is the second thing he had planned. 

Thankfully the supermarket is big enough to have a self-check-out area and, prioritising the avoidance of unnecessary human interaction, David heads straight there.

He’s doing well with the scanning; it isn’t exactly complicated despite what his father had implied when he had been employed at the supermarket on the other side of Elmdale for a total of a day. That is, until he reaches the singular onion in the plastic bag. 

He looks around, but of course there is no assistant at the tills today. Instead, he catches eyes with Patrick who is checking out his own shopping a couple of metres away. 

“There’s a little button.” He says, pulling his card out of the card machine and collecting his bags before heading over to David, “Just here? So, you can check out loose items.”

David nods and follows his instruction, “Thank you for that. I swear I’m not completely useless I just- I’m not used to, you know--”

“I never thought you were useless, David.” Patrick says with an ease that makes David immediately believe him. “I do have a question though; if you live at a motel then how are you going to cook this meal- this, um--” he cranes his neck to look at the note still clenched in David’s right hand, “vegetable chilli. Do you have pots and pans at the motel?”

David’s eyes widen, “Fuck!” he exclaims, “I didn’t even think about that.”

He groans in frustration, at this point ready to pack the whole thing in and head home with only the ice cream and vodka for the evening. 

Patrick only seems to find his annoyance amusing though, and smirks at him. 

“Well, if you need a place to go you could always come to mine. My kitchen is fully stocked by my roommate.”

“That’s very kind of you--”

“Well, I wouldn’t be doing it for free. But I would accept payment in a serving of Adelina’s vegetable chilli.”

David opens and closes his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish. “Um, you’re either very sure of yourself or this is some kind of pick up line and you are very forward.”

Patrick shrugs slightly, seeming unbothered except for the small blush rising on his cheeks. “Both?”

David narrows his eyes for a moment before nodding, “Both could be good.” He says slowly, still eyeing Patrick cautiously 

He focuses his attention on bagging his items up and paying whilst he considers his options. Patrick waits patiently, watching him carefully.

“Okay, I could be open to your, um, your offer.”

His face breaks into a grin David is yet to see; it spreads across his face and causes his eyes to twinkle excitedly. “Glad to hear it, David. Um, I live pretty close to here; it’s called Schitt’s Creek, do you want to follow me there in the car?”

“Oh, I- um--” But Patrick is already heading to the car, waving over his shoulder at David as he places his bags in the boot. David watches him walk with interest, taking a quick moment to check out his behind and roll his eyes at the Levy jeans which are honestly just predictable, before heading for his own car. 

He places the bags in the passenger seat, and instead spends the extra few moments waiting for Patrick to turn on his engine to put on his music. 

When they’re both ready, Patrick heads left out of the carpark with David following closely behind.

*** 

“Fuck.” David mutters, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Patrick has pulled up at Ray’s house. The source of his frustration all week has somehow intervened in David’s life, again. But he has to get out the car else Patrick will think he has deserted him. So, he parks up on the road, and clambers out with his shopping in one hand, smiling as Patrick waves from his own car. 

“Um, so- uh, you live with Ray?” David asks.

Patrick blinks in surprise, “I- yeah. Do you know him?”

“I swear I’ve been here all week trying to get my business licence sorted.” 

“Oh.” Patrick says, a small smirk on his features, “I thought I recognised your voice. I’m sorry about that- I usually do the business consultants but I’ve been quarantined upstairs all week with a cold; Ray doesn’t do germs.”

David can’t help but smirk at that. Patrick leads him into the house as they talk, and David takes a tentative look around. 

“He’s not here.” Patrick says, watching him look around as if afraid Ray is going to pop up from behind the couch. “He has a conference in Elmdale, finally giving me a night off. The plan was to make some soup and watch some trashy TV.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind me cooking here?” David asks, but Patrick just smiles.

“I’m glad to have you here David. I’m sorry I missed you this week- I would have liked to meet you.”

David rolls his eyes but grins despite himself. “Well, that is a very lovely thing to say.”

They place the bags on the counter; Patrick is quick to pack away all his own shopping, and stashes David’s ice cream in the freezer to collect later, before turning back to him with a pan in his hands. 

“Right, what does the recipe say?” He asks.

“Oh, you don’t need to- You’ve already done so much.” David says awkwardly.

“I don’t mind helping. Now, what’s the first step?”

They work in relative silence, making quiet conversation about this and that. It turns out Patrick has been in town for just under three months and had gotten a job with Ray as an add-on to living in his spare room. They talk a little about David’s history, before the chilli is in the pot and bubbling away. 

“Okay, um, now it says we leave it to simmer for half an hour at least.” David says, holding the recipe up close to his face and regretting not bringing his reading glasses with him. 

Patrick wipes his hands on a tea towel and nods.

“Thank you for helping me with this.” David says slowly. “Um, I really would have hated to mess this up.”

“It’s no problem, David.” Patrick replies, leaning gently against the counter. “If you don’t mind me asking, who was Adelina? She must be pretty special for you to have kept a hand-written recipe like that.”

“Oh, um, Adelina was mine and my sisters Nanny when we were growing up.” David says, “My parents weren’t around a lot and she basically raised us. She was the best cook, and I had a tough week sorting the business licence and everything, and she always used to make this after a bad day, so I had a sudden craving for it.”

David is surprised to see, when he looks up, that Patrick looking at him with an awed expression on his face. 

“It’s not--”

“Thank you for sharing this with me, David.” Patrick says quietly, glancing up at him. “I’m sure the chilli is going to be just fine. You must miss her a lot.”

“Hmm,” David says, nodding, and feeling flushed. “Um, she died a couple of years back, before we moved here. Mom and Dad didn’t make it to the funeral, but my sister made an appearance, and I went. I think she would be glad that we lost our money and moved here in the end; especially considering how much closer we all are because of it.”

David coughs uncomfortably as he realises how personal the conversation has gotten and changes it to focus back on the business. Patrick is particularly interested in the details of Rose Apothecary and seems genuinely impressed by the specifics of David’s business plan.

The timer goes off, and Patrick scoops a portion of the chilli into two separate bowls, digging some spoons out of a drawer and passing one to David as they head over to the couch. He puts something mindless on the TV and they both dig in. 

The bowls are empty within ten minutes, and Patrick gets up to refill them. The second round is finished in almost the same amount of time, and the two men lean back on the couch cushions, side-by-side, clutching their stomachs.

“As good as Adelina’s?” Patrick asks, turning his head to lean the side of his face against the cushions and look at David questioningly. 

“Mm, definitely.” David responds, his eyes closed as he leans back. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much of it though. I don’t think I’ll be able to move.”

Patrick chuckles, and shuffles slightly closer, which makes David tense. He turns his own face to peek at Patrick. 

“I’ve had a really good time today, David. So, thank you, it’s really cheered me up.”

David frowns, and looks at him questioningly. “What was wrong?”

Patrick hums, “I was homesick, maybe? It was my first time being unwell away from home, so I guess maybe that, and just a general down sort of week. But I haven’t felt like that at all this afternoon, so, thank you. For that.”

David nods, “Um, I’m glad I made you feel better.” 

Patrick twitches, and moves closer again, and David gets the message, and shuffles forward slightly himself, watching as Patrick’s eyes move down to look at his lips. 

In the end, David isn’t sure who closes the distance between them, but suddenly they’re kissing. It’s soft and sweet which is unusual for David, and as far as first kisses go, probably the best he has ever had, which is saying something, because he has kissed a lot of people. 

Patrick sighs, and reaches his hand up to stroke the sweater fabric on David’s hip with his thumb, as David reaches his own hand to cup Patrick’s face and deepen the kiss. His tongue skates Patrick’s lips, which open easily and embrace the intrusion. 

Unwilling, or unable to go further, Patrick pulls back and changes the tone of the kisses to soft, repetitive pecks, each one seeming to be the last before he is pulled back in by an invisible tether. 

David can’t help but laugh as Patrick keeps kissing him, one after the other, seeming torn between his unwillingness to go further, but also his desire to keep going. 

David’s smile effectively stops the kissing, as Patrick lands one on his teeth, and pulls back to allow himself to laugh. 

They don’t move away, and instead rest their foreheads together for a moment. 

“Well, that was very lovely.” David says after a couple of beats of silence. 

“I, um, I’ve never done that before.”

“What? Hit on someone in a supermarket, invited them back to your house, and made out with them on the couch?” David teases.

“It wasn’t- I wasn’t hitting on you.” Patrick says, in a frustrated voice which is off put by his blinding smile. 

“Oh, so you just invite everyone home from the supermarket then?”

He rolls his eyes, still looking fond, and shakes his head. “Um, I meant I haven’t- I’ve never kissed a guy, before you.”

David nods, somehow unsurprised by the revelation and able to prevent himself from panicking. “That’s fine.”

“I, um, I liked kissing you though.” He continues, “I’d like to keep getting to know you, David.”

“Oh. I- Well, I’d like that too.”

They grin at each other. David’s hand is resting on Patrick’s chest and he can feel the rapid staccato of his heard through his shirt, and he smooths his palms across the muscle in a lame attempt to sooth the other man. He seems to appreciate it though, as he presses another soft kiss against his lips, and--

“Hello!” Ray says, entering the room. Neither of the men had heard the front door open, so both are suitably surprised by the intrusion, and jump away from each other as if they’ve been burned. “Something smells good! What are you- Oh?”

He pauses in the doorway, looking between David and Patrick with surprise. 

“David Rose. This isn’t about your business licence again, is it? I said I would send it once I’ve sorted--”

“No, nope, Ray.” Patrick interrupts, “Actually, yes. I will be taking over sorting David’s business licence for you. Let you focus on your- um, your other businesses for a while. The photography one, maybe.”

Ray nods but is still standing in the door as if waiting for an explanation. 

“David was just--”

“I was just leaving.” David says, standing up and pulling a regretful face at Patrick who follows him into the kitchen. “Just going to grab my- stuff.” He says, piling the leftover ingredients into a bag and quickly grabbing the ice cream from the freezer. 

Patrick follows him to the door. Ray has disappeared somewhere into the house; probably to steal some leftover chilli, and so Patrick takes the opportunity to step out onto the front drive with David. 

“I’m sorry about--” Patrick starts, but his sentence is cut off as David presses another quick kiss against his lips. “Oh.”

David looks flustered by his own actions and screws his face up. “Sorry, that was, super forward. I- um, thank you for letting me borrow your kitchen.”

“Here, um, take my business card.” Patrick says, digging desperately through his pockets and pulling out the white square. “Um, in case you need it, for your business, or for- anything else.”

David accepts the offering with a smirk and a nod. “It’s very kind of you- To take over from Ray with helping with my business.”

Patrick tips his head to one side; “Well, fortunately I am a very generous person.”

David smirks one final time, before nodding, and holding the card tight in one hand. He turns on his heel and heads to his car, slipping the card into one of his bags next to the hand-written recipe from Adelina. 

“Goodnight, David.” Patrick says from the door, just as David is about to duck into the car. 

“Goodnight, Patrick.” He responds, waving at him slightly as he puts the car into drive, and heads off down the road, simultaneously feeling ten pounds heavier from the food, and yet also twenty pounds lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This is one I've been thinking about for a while so it was a really quick one to write. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments, they always make me want to write more!
> 
> I hope this provided some momentary distraction and escapism from everything, and I hope you're all staying safe and well!


End file.
